February 1796
by Tanya Crandall
Summary: A Scarlet Pimpernel Fan fic taking place in the life of Chauvelin. After the fall of the Committee.


1 February 1796-  
  
  
  
Henri Chauvelin sat at his desk; the rhythmic pounding of the rain on his windows was enough to drive a man crazy. Besides the rain, the silence was almost unbearable for who would dare travel out in this weather? It DID give him a chance to catch up on paperwork, though. He had been neglecting it for sometime and it sorely needed to be accomplished.  
  
'If Alex were here…' he thought absently glancing toward his closed doors where his secretary's office was just on the other side. 'If Alex were here it never would have piled up this much.' However, the simple truth was that Alexandra was NOT here. And she hadn't been for close to six months now. She had left to have their baby and Chauvelin had been stuck with practically every inexperienced jerk in The Directory. Now as he thought on his newest secretary, a seventeen-year-old named Timothy Dupree, the Frenchman almost regretted getting her pregnant in the first place.  
  
Timothy was about as irritating as they came. Not an overly ambitious boy really. He was just a nervous wreck in Chauvelin's presence. On his first day, Timothy had managed to knock over everything on Alexandra's desk, including the inkwell…right onto his boss's boot. It was obvious that the boy, for whatever reason was terrified of Chauvelin, which suited the older Frenchman fine. The less he'd have to see of him and it would keep the boy busy at work.  
  
At this moment Chauvelin could hear papers rustling from the other room. Timothy was, no doubt, screwing up the filing system and single handedly bringing The Directory down with it. It was a bit of surprise then, when the young boy knocked on the door and entered announcing that Chauvelin had a visitor. Looking out the window at the rain, a crash of thunder was the only thing to break the silence. Not really feeling like seeing anyone, Timothy's look of just wanting to get the hell out of there amused him, so Chauvelin played along.  
  
"Who is it?" He asked not looking up from where he was writing. It was nice to know he could still be intimidating.  
  
"A M. Corday, sir," Timothy stammered out causing the Frenchman's head to snap up abruptly.  
  
Alexandra's maiden name was Corday. So, though there were many Cordays in Paris, it was likely this was one of her brothers or her father. A confused look crossed his features as he wondered what the matter could be. He wasn't especially close to any of them to receive a social visit out of the blue, not at work anyway. Chauvelin motioned for Timothy to show the man in while cleaning off his desk a bit to give his visitor his full attention.  
  
In a matter of moments the door was opened again and there stood in it, as expected, one of his brothers-in-law. His older brother-in-law to be exact, Vincent Corday. Vincent was a man of good character and Chauvelin liked him quite a bit. Out of all of Alexandra's family, he felt that Vincent was the one he most thought like and considered a friend. Standing just a bit taller than Chauvelin, the younger Frenchman's face was a bit worn and made him look older than his thirty-one years. As he entered, his brother-in-law's office, Vincent smiled at Timothy and then at Chauvelin, who was obviously surprised to see him.  
  
"I hope it's not a bad time, Henri." Vincent said in apology.  
  
Shaking his head, Chauvelin indicated a chair and assured Vincent that his timing was fine. "I was only going over some paperwork, nothing terribly important. It's raining pretty hard out there. Is everything alright?" In the back of his mind he was expecting Vincent to announce any moment that something had happened to Alexandra or their child, but the younger Frenchman's face didn't betray an urgency, so Chauvelin's curiosity was beginning to get the better of him.  
  
"Ah well, yes…yes and no." Vincent wasn't exactly sure how to say what he had come to say. He almost wished he had sent Paul, his and Alexandra's younger brother, over. Giving Chauvelin a long hard look, Vincent sighed and decided he might as well come out with it. He really needed to get back home as soon as possible.  
  
"My father is dying," he said matter-of-factly. Then, when Chauvelin's eyes dimmed, he elaborated a bit. "The doctor has seen him three times this week already. He's baffled, but it's apparent that he doesn't have much time left. We're stretching it if we even give him days. Father seems to be taking it well. I think he expected as much, but the rest of us well… I mean, we just got the news this morning, and…"  
  
As the news sunk in, it was clear why Vincent had come. "…And you want me to tell Alex." Chauvelin said looking directly at his brother-in-law. She wasn't going to take this well, but Vincent's reasoning was sound. She needed to see her father before he died, and she needed to be prepared for it. He nodded, "Alright…we'll be over tonight."  
  
Vincent smiled weakly, he himself was still unsure of what this was going to be like. Tension at home was bad enough without his father passing away. His wife, Juliette, and Paul's wife, Bianca, we're not exactly the best of friends and it was getting worse by the day. Not that Vincent (or even Paul, himself) could blame Juliette. It was long ago decided that Bianca was not the nicest of people.  
  
Rising, Chauvelin walked around the desk and extended his hand to Vincent, who took it, shaking firmly. Yes, Chauvelin cared a great deal and respected Alexandra's brother very much. Vincent anyway, he didn't hold Paul in high regard at the moment, but he didn't detest him either. "I am sorry, Vincent. And I'll explain everything to your sister." He squeezed his brother-in-law's arm and walked him to the door, closing it back with flick of his wrist.  
  
'Damn it!' he thought sitting back down. He might as well put his paperwork away for the rest of the day. Now all Chauvelin could think about was how to tell his wife that her father was dying.  
  
Alexandra Chauvelin sat in the middle of her bed rocking Gabriel, her four-month-old son. The storm was scaring him out of his wits and she had been sitting here for the better part of an hour trying to calm him down. The poor child went through this every time it thundered and she and Chauvelin were heartbroken once his wailing began. Gabriel only paused in his sobbing to take a few ragged breaths and to bury his face in Alexandra's shoulder. She had tried a variety of methods to quiet her child, but nothing was working and to top it all off each time there was a flash of lightning followed by a crash of thunder his wails began anew.  
  
Gabriel Chauvelin, at four-months-old, was such a good baby that Alexandra sometimes she forgot she was a mother if she wasn't holding him in her arms. He was sleeping through the night now and could occupy himself for hours upon end with his hands and feet. Not to say that she and Henri did not pay attention to the boy, quite the opposite in fact, their child was beginning to recognize faces and there was nothing he loved more than to be coddled by his Maman and Papa. And the Chauvelins considered him such a blessing that the baby was never in need of attention. Sitting on the bed now, she was stroking his back, and speaking to him softly periodically kissing his head, which he could hold up well now.  
  
"It's alright, baby. Maman won't let anything happen to you, I promise." The child sounded so frightened even as she said this that Alexandra almost wanted to cry with him. And this was how Chauvelin found them when he got home, sitting on the bed in the darkness of their bedroom.  
  
He winced as he heard the crying of his son and his wife's pleas for Gabriel to calm down. Hopefully the storm would cease soon. If the thunder would just stop then everything would be fine. Sitting beside them on the bed, Chauvelin placed a hand on Gabriel's back and leaned over to kiss Alexandra's cheek. "I'll take him for a little bit," He offered kissing her softly again and scooping up the baby carefully from her arms. Clucking his tongue a little as Gabriel whimpered a bit from being taken from his Maman, Chauvelin said softly but low, "Now, what's all this, son, hmmm?"  
  
Gabriel's cries began to soften when Chauvelin spoke. The baby had always responded well to his father's deep voice and now was no exception. Or perhaps he was just lonely for attention and wanted both of his parents. Whatever the reason, the crying ceased and the child now lay with his head on his father's shoulder. Chauvelin murmured low to his son, calming words. The child's eyes slid closed as he was rocked back and forth. The exertion of the last hour had taken its toll and Gabriel Chauvelin was asleep in a matter of moments. Now Chauvelin had Alexandra all to himself, and he would have to tell her about her father. He still had no idea how he was going to break the news to her, but it had to be done. He would do it, and then would be there to comfort her. For she, no doubt, would be heartbroken.  
  
Standing slowly, so not to wake the baby, Chauvelin moved across the floor softly to the bassinet and laid his son down. He covered the boy carefully whispering softly as he rubbed his back. Gabriel was still asleep and should be for sometime. It would give him time to speak to Alexandra and have her full attention. Turning to where she was sitting on the bed, he smiled at her softly and extended his hand to help her up. Squeezing her hand tightly, Chauvelin led his young wife out of the bedroom and into their small parlor.  
  
"You're wonderful," She says as she is pulled into his arms on the sofa. Placing a small kiss on his lips, Alexandra rested her head on his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She could never express to him how much she loved him. Chauvelin had done so much for her in the two years they had known each other, but she also knew that her husband knew she loved him and just how much. Laughing lightly as he kissed the top of her head, the Frenchwoman listened to his breathing for a moment before asking. "Is everything all right, Henri? You're awfully quiet."  
  
Inwardly Chauvelin was NOT all right. Not by a long shot, he was torn as what to do, and what her reaction would be. He decided he needed to just tell her. They needed to get to Alexandra's family's house as soon as they could.  
  
"Sweetheart, I have something I need to talk to you about, but I want you to sit up and listen to me." Taking her hands from around his waist he pushed her up and held them tightly. Not taking his eyes from her he began as best he could. Speaking firmly but softly, trying to gauge her emotions the whole time.  
  
"Vincent came in to see me today. He had some important things to discuss and he wanted me to tell you…"  
  
Alexandra's heart sank into her stomach even as it was beating faster and faster. She tried to laugh off the feeling of dread, "Well, that's silly. Why couldn't he tell me himself?" She shook her head in confusion never once leaving Chauvelin's gaze. Something was horribly wrong and there were so many thoughts running through her mind at this one moment, it felt like an eternity.  
  
Chauvelin placed a hand to her face, pushing a few wayward curls off of her lovely features. With a sigh he added, "Alex your father has been very ill. Vincent says the doctor has visited three times this week. It doesn't look good, honey." He rubbed his thumb across her cheek softly. It was poised to wipe away and tears that threatened to fall.  
  
Alexandra did not cry, though, not yet anyway. She, at first, was sure she hadn't heard him correctly. But as the words sank in she said exactly what she was thinking. There must be some sort of mistake. The Frenchwoman didn't know how, but it had to be someone's mistake. Alexandra knew her father had been ill. It was not as if she never saw him. Since her mother had died a year ago, Gerard Corday had been living with his son, Vincent, and Vincent's wife Juliette in the Corday's childhood home. Alexandra visited often, at least once a week with Gabriel, and Chauvelin to boot most of the time. Because her younger brother, Paul, and his wife Bianca were in Paris for the next few weeks, the Chauvelins had gone a bit more frequently.  
  
Suddenly it sunk in. This was real and it was going to happen no matter what she said or prayed for. Alexandra kept running the words over in her mind. 'It doesn't look good, honey…' meaning, 'Alexandra your father is dying and I'm trying to prepare you before we go over and you break into hysterics.' Her father was dying. Trying to keep under control, Alexandra spoke as if she were having this conversation over afternoon tea with a girlfriend. "So…um…" she wasn't going to cry; she wasn't! "What else did Vincent say?"  
  
Chauvelin held tightly to her hand observing his wife intently for the first sign of vulnerability. She was on the verge, but he answered her question the same way it was asked, strait forward. "The doctor has been three times this week. They do not know the cause, but they're not expecting him to make it through the week…Sweetheart, I'm so sorry…" And he was. His heart was breaking as he watched Alexandra's face change from disbelief to sorrow. A single tear fell from her beautiful eyes, and that was all it took. The rest flowed behind it like unruly children marching in a line.  
  
Still sitting away from him, Alexandra choked on the words, "There must be some mistake, Henri! My father was healthy when I saw him last. It was just a tiny cough. I don't understand…" Repeating her last thought again, the Frenchwoman finally flung herself into her husband's arms, sobbing into his chest. She knew he wasn't going to live forever, her father was by no means young. But Alexandra had just had a baby and the happiest year of her life, there had been little time to share it with him. The rain outside was a fitting complement to the young woman's mood. Its vibration on the windows only seemed to remind her of the thudding of her heart and why it was beating so ruthlessly against her chest.  
  
"I know…I know. And I'm here, its going to be all right, I promise." Chauvelin reassured his wife calmly resting his head on top of hers. He enfolded her into his arms without hesitation and pulled her close, rocking her a little bit. She was a strong woman, and once the initial shock wore off, the Frenchman was quite sure that Alexandra would handle this with a calm grace, as she did everything. He could feel her body shaking as she took a deep breath, her tears not ceasing for the moment. It broke Chauvelin's heart every time he couldn't protect her from something, and he had seen her in this state far too many times for his liking. Smoothing Alexandra's hair a bit with one hand, he kissed her head and continued to rock his wife back and forth.  
  
Alexandra and Chauvelin sat in silence for the next few moments. He simply held her tightly allowing her to get out what she needed to. Occasionally he would kiss the top of her hair or smooth it a bit in an attempt to let her know she wasn't alone in this. Sitting up slowly, Alexandra leaned forward to kiss her husband. Chauvelin partook of her lips softly, he knew it was her way of thanking him for whatever he had done right. And he couldn't rightly say he knew what it was, but she seemed a bit more stable.  
  
"I have to go over there," She said simply standing and rubbing her forehead with her palm a little. Alexandra didn't particularly want to go alone, but Gabriel was sleeping and she couldn't wait. She waited for her husband to say something to make it all better, but he simply stood and kissed her forehead.  
  
"You go on, Alex. I will be over later with Gabriel once the rain lets up a bit." He went off to find her a cloak and returned helping her into it with a kiss. "Did you want me to get you a carriage? I don't want you walking alone in the rain…"  
  
Sniffling a bit, Alexandra simply nodded to her husband. She closed her eyes as Chauvelin took her face between his hands. Kissing her forehead again he turned toward the door, assuring her, "I'll be right back." And with that he walked out into the rain.  
  
Alexandra smiled slightly as he left. Chauvelin had been so concerned with her that he had walked outside, without a coat, into the cold and rain. Heading into their bedroom, the young wife pulled out a baby blanket and a tiny hat sitting them both on the bed. She then sank into a chair obscured by the darkness and observed her child sleeping peacefully. Her thoughts were miles from Gabriel, however. They rested in the upstairs bedroom of a house not far from her own, where her father was slowly slipping away. The terror of her not being able to say goodbye was slowly outweighing seeing him going through this. And the mere thought of the situation caused Alexandra's tears to flow again.  
  
Chauvelin returned moments later and kneeled in front of her, quietly. Placing his forehead to hers, he took her hand lightly and whispered, "The carriage is waiting, Alex." He pulled her into a standing position and led her from the bedroom to the front door. "We'll be over soon," he promised his wife as she breathed through her tears.  
  
She stopped before walking out the door to remind him. "I laid a blanket and a hat on the bed for Gabriel. Don't let his face be exposed to the rain…"  
  
Chauvelin didn't let her finish for her was leading her down to the carriage, by the hand. He knew that she was only reminding him to stall a bit. She was afraid of going over alone and he could see that. Alexandra had never once treated him as if he had no clue how to care for a baby. Helping her into the carriage, the Frenchman kissed his wife quickly and whispered, "I love you, very much, Alexandra," before he let her go about her way. Chauvelin watched the carriage disappear before turning to go back into the flat they shared. 


End file.
